True Monarch Scorching Sun waved a spectral hand, dismissing their grievances as if brushing away dust.

“Hmph. Do not speak of fairness to the heavens, little friend. In the cultivation world, every harvest demands a price. Is that not the natural order?”

The old ghost offered them a meaningful, piercing glance. “Consider the illusion array you just survived. Can you honestly say you gained nothing from the ordeal?”

Wang Hao fell silent. Privately, he had to admit the harvest was substantial: he had secured a beautiful and powerful wife. More importantly, the eighty-one lifetimes had tempered their souls to a terrifying degree.

Their Divine Consciousness had expanded significantly. Future cultivation bottlenecks would shatter like glass, and the dreaded Heart Demons—even those awaiting them at the Nascent Soul threshold—would find little purchase in minds already hardened by a millennium of memories.

After weighing the scales, Wang Hao decided that accepting the mission was a calculated risk worth taking. However, he couldn’t let Scorching Sun lead him by the nose.

“Fine, I agree,” Wang Hao said evenly. “But my current strength is negligible. How about we schedule the rebuilding of the Pill Cauldron Sect for five hundred years from now?”

“Five hundred years?” Scorching Sun snorted, his displeasure vibrating through the cavern walls. “Too long. If you fail to condense a Nascent Soul, you will be nothing but a pile of yellow earth by then. How would you fulfill your promise from the grave?”

“But Senior, be reasonable. If I claimed to rebuild the sect today, who would believe me?” Wang Hao fired back. “Does nailing a sign to a door count? Without the strength to defend it, raising this island would only invite destruction. How could we hold it?”

True Monarch Scorching Sun fell silent. The logic was undeniable.

“This old man is aware of the difficulties,” the soul finally conceded. “Very well. I will give you two hundred years. With my techniques, my guidance, and the resources here, forming a Golden Core is inevitable for you both.”

The phantom stroked his beard. “With two Golden Core masters, you will have the strength to begin. I grant you permission to hide the sect’s name in the early stages; simply passing down the Daoist lineage will suffice.”

Two hundred years… Wang Hao calculated quickly. If things went smoothly, he would likely be in the late Golden Core stage by then. Founding a sect would be manageable.

He nodded. “Agreed.”

“Swear it by your Dao Hearts,” Scorching Sun commanded, his voice turning grave. “If you fail to rebuild the Pill Cauldron Sect, you shall never form a Nascent Soul in this lifetime.”

The two exchanged glances and swore the solemn oath.

Scorching Sun laughed heartily, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “The legacy and the control array are below. Go and claim them. Since you both share a karmic link to my sect, I can fade away with peace of mind.”

The phantom began to dissolve into starlight. “I have left a grand gift for you both. May you reach the Golden Core soon. My wish is fulfilled. Farewell!”

With a final shimmer, the True Monarch vanished into the Qi.

“Did that old fossil just play us?” Wang Hao muttered, standing frozen in place. He felt a lingering sense of unease.

Ji Xiaotang, who now understood Wang Hao’s eccentric mannerisms thanks to their shared memories, shook her head. “Likely not. A Nascent Soul cultivator has no need for petty tricks. If we refused, he would have simply destroyed us. Besides, he is right—since we are taking the inheritance, paying a price is only fair.”

“We’ve already sworn the oath, so there’s no use complaining,” Wang Hao sighed. “Let’s go down and see what treasures are waiting.”

They stepped onto their flying swords and descended into the abyss.

The mountain had been completely honeycombed. The vertical shaft was lined with caves of various sizes, likely former dwellings for core disciples. The density of spiritual energy here was staggering, far richer than the outside world.

It took them a dozen breaths to reach the bottom, a descent of nearly a thousand meters.

The depths were not dark. Glowing ores embedded in the rock walls bathed the cavern in a soft, multicolored luminescence. Finding no legacy at the landing point, they followed a tunnel branching off to the left.

Wang Hao remained cautious. He didn’t recall his spirit beasts and deployed two additional puppets to scout the path ahead.

The ground was rough, littered with rubble and slick with dripping stalactites. The tunnel was clearly artificial, hewn from the rock by ancient hands, but thousands of years of neglect had left it in disrepair.

The path twisted and turned, leading them deeper underground. The spiritual pressure grew heavier with every step until they emerged into a colossal stone grotto.

“This must be the core of the Grand Array,” Wang Hao whispered.

In the center of the room sat a massive, square formation plate, pulsing with rhythmic light.

“Look at the artifact acting as the pivot,” Ji Xiaotang pointed upward. “That energy… it must be a top-grade Magic Treasure. Only a treasure of that rank could power a fourth-grade array and keep the sect intact under the crushing pressure of the sea for millennia.”

Wang Hao looked up. Suspended above the array plate was a crimson gourd, radiating waves of terrifying spiritual power.

“A Magic Treasure…” he breathed, his eyes wide with avarice.

“It is a pity,” Ji Xiaotang noted. “That treasure supports the entire structural integrity. Unless the island rises to the surface, we cannot move it. If we touch it, the cavern collapses.”

“It doesn’t matter. We couldn’t use it anyway,” Wang Hao said, shaking his head to clear his greed. “Possessing a treasure without the strength to protect it is a sin. A child walking through a market with gold invites disaster.”

A top-grade Magic Treasure would suck a Foundation Establishment cultivator dry in seconds. They decided to ignore the array plate for now and pressed deeper.

They encountered a shimmering barrier, but as Wang Hao reached out to test it, the energy dissipated at his touch. Whether it was due to the array’s decay or Scorching Sun’s authorization, the path was open.

Beyond the barrier lay a luxurious, well-preserved cave dwelling.

On a pristine jade table sat two items: a jade slip and a storage ring.

They picked up the jade slip first. As their Divine Consciousness swept over it, information flooded their minds.

The first section was a historical record confirming Ji Xiaotang’s knowledge. The sect had been besieged by demon beasts, abandoned by rival human factions, and ultimately annihilated. In his final moments, a dying Scorching Sun had scattered the low-level disciples to preserve the lineage, then sank the island. While the fourth-grade Beast King escaped, the formation trapped countless lower-tier beasts, dragging them down into the depths to serve as eternal guardians.

A message from the True Monarch followed:

“I am True Monarch Scorching Sun, the 36th Sect Master. Since you have found this place, the legacy is yours. I trust you to honor your oath.

Inside the storage ring is a sub-control plate for the barrier. You may enter the ruins once every fifty years, but only during the sixth month. Miss this window, and the island will sink beyond the plate’s sensing range.

Regarding the sect’s guardian art, the Red Lotus Illusory Wood Heart Sutra: I presume you possess the first half. The complete second half lies within the ring.

The full alchemy inheritance is also yours. Regrettably, our stockpile of artifacts and pills was exhausted during the war. However, the few items remaining should suffice for your current level.

The Spirit Pool in the vein contains a high concentration of Spirit Water. Using this for alchemy increases success rates and pill quality. Warning: After accumulating for millennia, the water has reached the fourth grade. It is too potent for low-level pills and will overwhelm the main ingredients. You must dilute it before use.

Finally, I have left a third-grade Flowing Yin Formation within the vein. Cultivating inside for one year equates to only one day passing in the outside world. I originally built it to heal my mortal wounds, but alas, the situation was already beyond salvation.”

“There are quite a few good things here,” Wang Hao sighed in admiration.

The revelation hit him: The Wang family’s core technique, the Red Lotus Illusory Wood Heart Sutra, had come from the Pill Cauldron Sect all along.

Scorching Sun hadn’t been guessing about their “karmic link.” The Wang ancestors must have been among the disciples who fled the island five thousand years ago. The family’s talent for alchemy wasn’t a coincidence; it was a fragmented inheritance.

“Thank goodness,” Wang Hao muttered, feeling a wave of relief. “I’m glad I didn’t rashly switch to the Sun Moon Rotation Sutra back then. If I had, I’d have to waste decades switching back to the Red Lotus path now to utilize the full legacy.”